


Possession

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Winchester Angst, Dean Winchester Fluff, Demon possession, F/M, Female Reader, Female Reader angst, Female Reader fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5312909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader Request - Imagine the reader is possessed by a demon. In getting it out, reader is hurt and Dean takes care of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possession

By the time Dean realized Y/N was possessed, it was too late. He should have known right away. There was a shift in her body language that hadn’t been there an hour earlier. The way she approached him, walking across the room with a purpose, how her hips swayed a little too seductively. It was a dead giveaway that something was… off. 

“Get out of her or I swear on my –“ Dean struggled for air as the hand at his throat tightened.

She pushed Dean back so she was straddling him on the ground. “Or you’ll what? You’ll kill me? You wouldn’t hurt me while I’m in here.” The demon wearing Y/N leaned in and pressed a kiss to his sandpaper cheek, angling his wrist back at an almost awkward angle.

Sneering, the hunter tried turning his head away. “You’d be surprised.”

She _tsk-tsk’d,_ rubbing her nose against the shell of his ear. “Oh lover, I’ve been wrong about many things, but I’m sure about this.”

Dean swore under his breath. “Abbadon.”

Her lips pulled into a smile against his sun kissed skin before she leaned back, eyes flicking to black. “Look who’s been thinking about me. Don’t deny it.”

“The only thing I’ve been thinking about is shoving a blade in your chest.”

With a blink, Y/N’s eyes were back to their normal, very human color. “What is Y/N going to have to say when she finds out you’ve been thinking about another woman’s rack? Shame on you, Dean. I thought you were more loyal than that.”

He grit his teeth when Abbadon brushed her fingers against his jaw. “What do you want?”

She hummed softly, gnawing at her bottom lip. “For starters?”

“Why not? I’m not going anywhere.”

A rich laugh bubbled in her throat. “I knew I liked you for more than your pretty looks. You and your brother need to back off.”

“You must have us confused with someone else. We don’t back off.”

“I have a plan and you’re upsetting the balance of things.”

Dean’s lip curled as she shifted atop him. “That’s what we do, sweetheart.”

“Don’t you want to hear my plan?” She had the nerve to look disappointed.

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

“I’m going to take over Hell.”

Scoffing, Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Good luck with that.”

“With you by my side, anything is possible.” Abbadon ran her fingers along the collar of his shirt, pulling it down to expose his anti-possession tattoo.

“Like I said, good luck with that.”

Grabbing him by the chin, she forced him to look at her. “Use your imagination, Dean. Can’t you see it? You and me, lover. Ruling Hell the way it ought to be.”

He hissed through his teeth when she shifted her weight, putting more pressure on his wrist. “The only thing I’m seeing right now is you getting the fuck outta my girlfriend.”

“Oh yeah? How you gonna manage that?”

“Like this, bitch.” Sam pulled the trigger on his gun, but Abbadon was faster than a bullet.

Y/N’s head flew back as Abbadon smoked out with a scream. A scream that was cut off as the bullet slammed into her back. Dean caught her as she pitched forward, blood rushing out of the wound as his hand pressed hard against it, hissing as his hand slipped on her blood-soaked leather jacket.

* * *

“Dean?” Her voice cracked as she swam out of unconsciousness.

The hunter’s feet hit the floor with an almost silent thud, thanks to the socks he wore. He held a hand on her bare shoulder as she shifted. “Shhhhh. Easy, Y/N, easy. I’m right here.”

Y/C eyes fluttered open, snapping into focus on Dean. Smiling almost shyly, she tried to push off her chest, but Dean’s hand grew heavier, holding her down. “I wouldn’t do that just yet.”

“What? Why not?” Panic gripped her tight, her fingers flexed against the high thread cotton sheet.

“What’s the last thing you remember, sweetheart?” Once Dean was sure she wouldn’t try and sit up again, he stood, and removed the gauze covering her stitches. There weren’t a lot, but the wound had been deep.

“I… it’s all fuzzy. We were tracking down some demons, and… and I heard a noise in the alley.”

Dean ground his teeth, angry at himself for letting her check it out by yourself. “It was Abbadon.”

“She possessed me, didn’t she?”

Satisfied the stitches wouldn’t tear, Dean replaced the gauze before dropping into the chair, his hand resting on hers, thumb sweeping back and forth. “We made a rookie mistake thinkin’ she wouldn’t go after someone close to me.”

She shifted stiffly, grunting as pain roared under her shoulder blade. “We’ll get her, Dean. We just gotta stick together.”

Finally, he smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes like it used to, but it was a start. “Alright. But first thing’s first. We gotta get you a tattoo.”


End file.
